


Greetings from St. Petersburg! - Christmas time!

by Dziabara



Series: Greetings from St. Petersburg! [2]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Christmas, Comedy, Fluff, Ghost of Christmas Past has Phichit's face, Humor, M/M, Post-Canon, Romance, So This Is Christmas, Victor and Yuuri tried to spend their Christmas in peace, and Wham!, and what have I done?, because George Michael, of course it won't be so easy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-18
Updated: 2017-12-21
Packaged: 2019-02-15 15:50:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13034418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dziabara/pseuds/Dziabara
Summary: What to do when you came to St. Petersburg two days before Russian Christmas, and the apartment is pracically empty? Fortunately, Victor and Yuuri have their own way of spending a warm, romantic evening. For this all they need is a soft blanket, two cups of tea, a fluffy poodle and... some old, Christmas stories of their lifes!





	1. 'Last Christmas'... or the first holidays in St. Petersburg

***

In their multicultural family consisting of one chronically lonely living legend, one self-conscious skater after five years of living in Detroit (including three years of sharing room with wild Thai) and one dog of unknown religion, the holidays looked a little different than anyone would expect it. In general they looked less like any Christmas and more like a hastily prepared vacation, which tried to pretend that it is how it should look like, but it didn't make anything well. So far, they bought ready dumplings and mandarins (only eighty pieces, nothing for Victor) for the dinner, pulled out from somewhere Christmas tree (Yuuri hoped that it came from a legal source) was so small that it would fit in a backpack, so fearing of dog's greediness it stood in the kitchen on the counter, and within Christmas atmosphere both skaters dressed in gray sweaters, decorated with strange, mystical patterns, which Victor pulled from his secret wardrobe, claiming that he brought them in Finland, not in Atlantis. Everything came out a bit strange, a bit wrong and a bit crazy... But it still wasn't the funniest thing of all.

Because a major spot in this sea of troublesome disorganization was a blanket sprawling on the floor, where skaters arranged something between a picnic and a children's camp, as if they were planning to spend all night waiting for gifts from Grandfather Frost. In every corner of the blanket there was a pillow or two, prepared in case if someone suddenly fell over and fell asleep just in this place, and in the central part of the camp Yuuri was on his kneels. Right before his legs he was holding a bowl of mandarins, which were systematically vanishing, Makkachin was resting on a right side, stucking out his neck for stroking, patting or rubbing (according to the wishes of human and pet), and the left side of Yuuri was prepared for his fiancé, who was still hesitating near an entrance.

“And you're sure I shouldn't call to any restaurant to prepare better place for our evening? You know, I have some connections, I could find something really nice for three of us, ” Victor said, standing with his arm near a switch, when Yuuri sent him only a calm smile and nodded.

“Yeah, here is good. And most of all it's warm," he replied simply, patted encouragingly at the pillow on his thighs, which was pretending to be a mini-kotatsu. „You won't take me out today, so you'll better forget about those spontaneous trips to Siberia and come closer to me.”

Yuuri's wish was an obvious order for him, so a chandelier finally turned off and instead of it, the Christmas lights flashed over couch, dressed up on one evening as a substitute for tree located in the kitchen. Colorful lights flashed and dimmed every few seconds, reflecting on all walls, ceiling, furniture, silhouettes of people and poodle fur. The shape of the entire composition was quite controversial by the associations with modern art, but if they only turned a blind eye... Well, okay, if they closed both eyes and turned their back, just in case, it was possible to feel that cozy, magical atmosphere of Christmas, which had finally settled in St. Petersburg for good.

Victor, completely not ashamed that he walking with bare feet, finally came to Yuuri. Trying not to spill tea around him, he sat down next to his boyfriend, who actually was busy with murdering the third mandarine. Close up and in sparkles of Christmas tree lights, Yuuris's sweater didn't appear to be a Mayan work anymore and revealed its more sweeter side when it turned out that the pattern was a row of snowmen dancing around the chest. A reindeer pattern, which proudly decorated Victor's torso, also has no longer any connections with incantation in honor of Satan. Thanks God. Literally.

Victor smiled and gently embraced his fiancé's waist with one hand. The thought of giving up on a pompous meal and turning it into the night of confessions, just like Yuuri with Mari used to do it in childhood, was a real blessing. Lights, tea, the blanket and two beloved beings next to him were enough to beat atmosphere of a family dinner with a bunch of whiskered uncles and curious aunts. Moreover - this night seemed to be the most beautiful way of spending Christmas as Victor could dream of. And he dreamed really long.

Well, except for these minor failtures to improve in the future.

“It looks a bit like some sort of grave in honor of my ingenuity," Victor confessed with a humble, after which he took a sip of tea and pointed to the couch. ”Here lies Victor Nikiforov, who did not cope with duties of the host and brutally murdered a few holiday customs. Or something like that."

“Don't overdo it. I know things haven't worked out exactly the way we planned, especially since we had just returned from Hasetsu. Anyway, it still looks quite lovely. And reminds me my student times," Yuuri said with a gentle smile. A moment later he grabbed Victor's wrist, pulled a mug to his mouth and stole a small sip. "Mmm... So, if it'll comfort you, I must say that our Christmas in Detroit were even worse. Much worse. It usually ended with the situation when everyone who stayed in dorm bore what they had for a combined dinner, so as a result the meal mostly consisted of a dozen types of chips and a few Coca-Cola packs. Or something stronger.

“Dozen types of chips, you say..."

Victor's eyes moved from his fiancé's face to somewhere around his stomach, which, of course, didn't escape Yuuri's attention.

“Hey, don't look at me like this! I have never ever seen it with my own eyes!” A gentle though obvious poke between ribs pacified naughty Victor. "I was on Nationals at that time!”

“Yes, yes, of course," Victor agreed politely and then he took two more sips of tea before he moved the mug away from his mouth and sighed. "So it seems that we are both sad, odd, injured by the social life skaters who don't know anything about how to celebrate Christmas? And instead of spruce we dress up the couch, like some modern-day savages?”

“And it's all blue instead of green," Yuuri nodded happily, snuggling against the Victor's side.

“Perfect.” On Victor's face appeared a shining heart-shaped smile. "Then what do you propose to make our situation even worse and to anger the traditionalists? Maybe we should make a bit of commercial climate and sing some Christmas songs? So? Are you dreaming of a duet with Mariah Carey and Victor Nikiforov singing ‘ _All I Want For Christmas Is You’_?"

“Always," Yuuri said with a laugh, lifting a thumb from which even Otabek would be proud of. “I allow.”

Victor put his mug with warm tea outside the reach of their blanket and pulled a smartphone out of his pants. Probably the true Christmas atmosphere would be much more suited with an old cassette with carols of some retired pop star, but they didn't even take care of such a trifle. Anyway - where would they find a working tape recorder in such moment? And a hexagonal pencil, just in case? They use only automatic ones!

“Okay!” Victor announced cheerfully and tapped his thumb on the screen so the world's most popular Christmas song could flow from the loudspeaker (if you didn't count a million varieties of _'Silent Night'_ and the opening of _'Kevin alone at home'_ ). "In that case, we'll start a warm-up with some good, proven-"

An attack of a hungry panther compared to Yuuri's reaction was nothing. A cobra leaping to a victim's throat seemed to be only childish play. Even a quilting eagle wouldn't be as precise as one scaried and activated by a bad feeling ice skater.

Yuuri immediately materialized in front of Victor and before Victor could even finish his announcement, he intercepted the phone by one learned gesture like a cop took some lethal weapon from hands of a terrorist. A second later, unexpectedly calm Yuuri laid the device down and before Victor thought that his beloved iPhone 6 Plus would collide with hard reality (or at least with somebody's hard fist), Yuuri cover the phone with the pillow.

"No," he said with a horribly dead expression, when the melody of _'Last Christmas'_ fell silent as if it was cut by a knife. "Just... just no. No way."

“But Yuuri! Wait a minute...!"

Victor was absolutely stunned, but in the same moment Yuuri shook his head.

“No 'buts'. As long as I live, this song won't be played in my company." Yuuri hid his eyes in the shadow of disheveled bangs and a glimmer of blue glasses, in which colorful Christmas tree lights were reflecting. "I thought that in Russia things are different, that people don't like foreign pop culture, that I'll be safe here..."

“What 'things'? What 'pop culture'?" Victor remarked rather desperately. "Mariah Carey was perfectly fine just a moment ago!"

“Because she's perfectly fine," Yuuri muttered, turning his head away so he could't let Victor know what made him so angry. But that was definitely not enough to stop Victor's curiosity.

“And Celine Dion?" he tried.

“Also good," Yuuri nodded.

“Cliff Richards?"

“I have no objections."

“Shakin Stevens?"

“He's a good guy."

“Michael Buble?"

“A little too much after all this competitions, but he’s kinda okay."

“So what, for God sake, George Michael did to y-" Victor began, and then Yuuri turned out to him. Without warning, Yuuri put his hands on Victor's thighs and he lifted himself, almost colliding with his fiancé's forehead.

“Victor!" he exclaimed, unable to stop himself anymore.

And that was a huge mistake, because now Yuuri had no choice and had to look straight into blue eyes, full of unconditional love. They were like two clean lakes, in which Japanese skater fell through a chopped hole.

“Come on, sweetheart, relax." Victor raised his hand and put it on Yuuri's head before the man decided to bury himself under the blanket. "What happened? It was so horrible?”

Yuuri gently blushed as Victor began to stroke black hair with tenderness, then he glanced at the pillow and let out a long, painful sigh.

"That's...," he began slowly.

“...a long story?" Victor finished, but Yuuri made a wry face.

“No," he mumbled. "Rather containing large amounts of Phichit at once."

Victor blinked and laughed out loud when he realized the extent of the matter. Ah, so how things are... Although he didn't know Mr. Chulanont, neither too long nor too close, but those few times when they had an opportunity to talk during the last Grand Prix, Victor learned enough about him. Phichit had a colorful personality and he couldn't be missed, even in crowd, so Victor supposed he often tested Yuuri's patience and his comfort zone during their living in one room. Of course, Yuuri and Phichit reached an agreement and even became best friends (probably forever), but with such differences of character, some misunderstandings were still inevitable.

The Victor's hand dived under the pillow and it took just a few seconds for the smartphone to be neutralized. As soon as the music fell silent and the phone got out for good behaviour, Yuuri moaned with relief and fell back on pillows, as if his muscles and nerves had been strained so far so they finally gave up. Victor only shook his head and immediately followed his fiancé's example, just landing right by his side. Well, if he have such nice opportunity...

“I think I'm beginning to have a general idea how terrible it could have been," Victor admitted and instead of a inappropriate song, he turned on some nice and completely neutral violin music. "Then tell me about it. As your trainer, I should know about your... hm... traumas."

Yuuri somehow was not so friendly about this plan. His old instinct he developed during his studies in Detroit probably told him that anything he tell will be used to bury him, so that's why he have the right to maintain his silence or call for a lawyer. Or maybe he would have this right, but in another country. For now, however, they were in St. Petersburg, in Victor's apartment... Or rather in their apartment, so the one and only real threat could be Victor's laugh and his mouth, especially if he'll say that Yuuri is absolutely guilty of being sweet and instead of a ticket he'll give him a few kisses. And finally, this whole evening supposed to be the night of confessions. Several nostalgic Christmas blunders fitted here like a glove.

“Phichit had a dream...," Yuuri started, letting Victor hug him even more. Then Yuuri placed his head on beloved's chest and, listening to his calming heartbeat, he continued the story. "Well, maybe not a dream. But he had a plan. And how it often happens with Phichit, at the beginning these plans don't seem to be bad. In fact, at that time, I didn't even know that they could look bad at all. Everything because we only knew each other for a few months.”

“What a pity. So you didn't have any chance with him from the very beginning," Victor said, stroking Yuuri's sweater. "You were like a sheep being led to the slaughter. My sweet, poor Yuuri..."

“You're making fun of me," he whispered, so Victor chuckled and kissed him on the top of his bangs.

"I wouldn't dare, my _zolotsye_ ," Victor answered, but Yuuri saw through his words and second time that evening he stabbed finger between ribs. A suppressed moan, full of concealed delight, went off from Victor's mouth.

“Anyway, in my third year, somehow just before the beginning of December, Phichit came up with the idea of making a musical countdown for Christmas. Something like _'Twelve days of Christmas'_ , but a little remodeled," continued Yuuri. "And that was a time when _'Last Christmas'_ began to be quite popular meme, so we decided that during trainings on the ice rink and gymnastics classes we'll listen only this one.

“Hm, it sounds quite, well, normal. I suppose it was something much worse, but, actually, it's a pretty good idea. In the end, not a day goes by before Christmas when you don't hear it in radio." Victor remarked, but Yuuri didn't share his enthusiasm. Not that much.

“And at first maybe it was actually pretty fun. Phichit just turned on the song on his phone and we fooled aroung, dancing like crazy... There was only one problem. On the first day of December we listened to this song once," Yuuri said, raising his hand over Victor to show him his index finger.

“On the second day we listened to it twice."

Yuuri added a middle finger.

“We released it three times on the third day."

The number of fingers has increased again.

“On the fourth day we heard George Michael four times..."

Further calculations were only child's play, so imagination promptly gave Victor the right answer.

"Whait a minute... So that means...” Nikiforov guessed and Katsuki automatically nodded.

“So that means the day before we listened to _‘Last Christmas’_ twenty-four times in a row.

“Oh. Oh... my." Victor definitely didn't know how to comment this. Actually, he didn't even know if he should laugh or he could start to condole. "That's a lot.”

“A lot?” Yuuri raised his head to look directly at Victor. Blue and red lights reflected in his glasses like miniature warning lamp. “It's over an hour and forty! Nonstop! After the day when we also listened to this about hour and forty. After the previous days, when we listened-“

“Okay, okay, I understand. Bad Phichit. Very bad," Victor claimed. “But why didn't you tell him about it?”

“No, you don't understand it at all... I tried, but for Phichit it was some sort of a challenge and once he started, there was no question of withdrawn." Yuuri was hanging over Victor, but he finally got tired and put his head on Victor's chest, still looking at him with a silent indignation. "By the end of sixth day it was still quite funny. Somewhere from the eighth day it began to be a bit tiring. About eleventh day I asked Phichit for the love of everything holy to let it go. At the fifteenth day I begged. From the seventeenth I began to wake up in the middle of night and hear things that I shouldn't have hear.”

“So he gave you a personal warhorse?" Victor noted, embracing Yuuri in his waist. Katsuki nodded. "Okay, now I see. I suppose that if somebody will try to turn my brain into mush with ' _Swan Lake_ ' or another ' _Nutcracker_ ' then I also... Ugh. I'm afraid even to think about this."

“Yeah, that was exactly something like that. And thanks God that _'Last Christmas'_ isn't suitable for competitions... And that's the reason why I refuse to take part in winter ice shows." Yuuri finally took off his glasses and put them gently on the empty couch. Thanks to this, Christmas lights began to flicker right in brown eyes. "I'm just a little surprised that Phichit survived this without a word of complaint... But, after all, we are talking about the man who said he watched ' _The King and the Skate_ r' fifty-eight times. Without scrolling," he pointed out.

“I really don't know how I could have missed him in the ' _Guinness World Records_ '." Victor shook his head in disbelief. "Actually, I'm starting to admire Phichit quite a lot... And to be afraid at the same time. Maybe I should seriously think about retire, because if I have to compete with people like you or him, I'm beginning to dream of setting up a peaceful farm of poodles.”

Yuuri finally managed to lighten himself up and even laughed under his breath when he had heard Victor's statement. Feeling of security took the place of musical trauma, and his face was illuminated by a warm, gentle smile. Oh, perfect. Something like that fitted him much more than fear.

“And you, Victor?" Yuuri asked after a while, lazily drawing small circles on the reindeer sweater. "Do you have any interesting memories? Something equally unforgettable?"

Oh, okay. Here's the thing. An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth. And a heart for a heart. In fact, Yuuri deserved to know that he was not the only one experienced by ghosts of the past holidays.

"It is fortunate," Victor whispered with wide smile "because I just have a pretty good Christmas story in my mind...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *zolotsye - gold
> 
> warhorse in skating-slang is song that is extremely often used for programs. One of most famous warhorses are, for example, "Phantom of the opera", "Swan Lake", "Les Misérables", and recently also "La La Land".
> 
>  
> 
> So... Hello everyone, searching for Christmas fanfictions! Before you leave, I will reassure that this isn't the end of my visit in St. Petersburg. As part of the "Christmas time" story, I planned three parts, which I'll try to publish at the beginning, in the middle and at the end of this week. In general, it was supposed to be just one-shot, but when Victor and Yuuri just began chatting, it was hard to stop them. So we're not going to move anywhere and in the next part we'll listen to what Viktor want to tell Yuuri (and us).
> 
> I'm really sorry for all mistakes and hope they did stripped it of all enjoyment ;u;


	2. 'Silent night', or a loud case with Snow Maiden in the background

***

“It was a quiet, dark, January night. Typically Russian and typically long, like all nights at this time of the year in St. Petersburg. Snow was constantly falling like a fluff from torned pillows, which were destroyed again and again by fiercely fighting angels in heavens. The white apocalypse lasted from the evening from day before and last even until approaching day. It waned for a moment or increased so much that windows resembled disorderly televisions. And yet thick snow was falling so beautifully, gently and slowly that it was impossible to take your eyes off it. Many shapeless crumbs swirled in the air, unable to decide whether they should rise into the air for one last moment or fall to the ground and cover earth with frosty quilt. But it didn't matter, not at all, not compared to amount of events. Because every flake danced in its direction, everyone did something different and went their own way, and even if their brittle life last only the blink of an eye, chaotic dance of thousands, millions, billions of particles seemed wonderfully synchronized. Magic, I would like to say. But it had came the most ordinary Russian winter.

It was a quiet, dark, January morning. The morning when wind howled, flying and rushing like demon, and squeezing into practically any, even the thinnest gap between a door or a ventilation shaft. With help of pure black and white, weather tried to erase the existence of whole city from the face of the earth. Mother Nature wanted to build in its place something better, cleaner... and certainly something more monochromatic. Darkness covered over the whole world, because heavy, leaden clouds blocked the sun, and instead of rays, it was only snow which was falling on the ground. This time, however, it seemed to be a lot smaller and sharper than in the night. Once it was falling diagonally, covering trees with white coats, and once it was spinning and flying up, wanting to get back where it came from. There were no indications for any improving of weather, just as there were no indications that there was even one living soul in St. Petersburg. And maybe that's why at every lightest step you could hear quiet creak of snow, bending under the weight of a man marching along with a dog...”

"All right, all right," Yuuri interrupted, gently patting the declamatory fiancé on his right side. "I understand. Snow, cold, poor visibility. But what happened then?"

"Next?" Victor blinked, a little knocked out, but immediately he regained the lost thread and smiled flirtatiously. "Come on, my dear, it's all thanks to my will of survive. After a few minutes of searching, we finally managed out to find the school which we had promised to visit, so the whole expedition through the city finished with a success."

"Uhm, yes, the will to survive," Yuuri nodded without conviction, then turned on his stomach and laid on the Victor's chest, looking at him with a mixture of pity and curiosity. "But seriously?"

"Yuuri! That was far too..."

Victor probably wanted to start to complain that he had been hurted by such suspicions, that he had exposed his health, in those snowdrifts, normally like a soldier in trenches, and who knows whether he had also put his life on the line... However, under the glare of Katsuki's look, he had to hang out a white flag quite quickly.

"...correct. So seriously it was one of teachers who went outside to check if we had been hanging somewhere around. And we actually were hanging around. Literally. We were walking around the whole intersection, probably four times, and I think that if  it would be corn instead of snow, someone would recognize our traces as UFO signs," Victor confessed, then reached across Yuuri's back towards the poodle to stroke him on the head. "Lucky for us Makkachin noticed that teacher, so we avoided being late. _Zuch malchik_.”

“Well… I didn't expect you would be able to get lost in St. Petersburg. You live practically your whole life here," Yuuri pointed, looking up at the ceiling, as if it was the place that the St. Petersburg was accumulated.

Until now, when conversations in one way or another had focused on Victor's home city, the man talked about it with such spirit and enthusiasm that in his mind's eye Yuuri saw all these parks, squares, monuments, museums, views and whole other attractions. In the notion of Yuuri it was even claimed that all of St. Petersburg was some kind of Victor's home and his apartment was a peculiar epicenter of the city (if not a compulsory pilgrimage destination for thousands of residents). Therefore, he didn't expect that he would find really large, lively, noisy metropolis and the apartment didn't have any windows facing the presidential house. It just lay in the common, a little elegant neighborhood! And this living legend, his own Russian champion turned out to be only an ordinary, indistinguishable man. One of many.

“Sure, I live, but I remind you that it also has about four and a half million people. This isn't Hasetsu, where everyone knows each other," Victor explained, remove his hand to put it on Yuuri's hair. Immediately, however, he switched from a serious tone to a slightly more childish one. "Besides, do you know how hard it was to find a school number plate? It was whole covered by snow!”

“Okay, okay, I believe. It is obvious that the whole world had conspired against you," Yuuri tried to quickly appease Victor, but it sounded more like a mockery. Okay, maybe a little intentional mockery. "And what? This is the whole story? Your trip to the North Pole ended up on this... Shaumyana street, right?”

“Ha, you would like to! But it was just the beginning!" Nikiforov remarked and Katsuki nodded.

“Then tell me," he encouraged, reaching for the polka dot mug to drink a sip of cooled drink. "Maybe it's true that the night is still young, but we are just finishing tea, so... If you don't hurry up with your story, then it'll be your turn to bring us the next round."

“Yuuri, you're too cruel... We've got Christmas but I'm working a double shift anyway. As a storyteller and a waiter," Victor murmured, but he didn't look depressed at all. On the contrary, a sigh was accompanied by a cheerful smile, which showed that Victor will go for tea even if it would have to be tea from a vending machine located in the Club, in accordance with Yuuri's wishes.

"Actually, three," Yuuri corrected, putting the mug down to hug his fiancé. He wrapped his arms around Victor's chest and pressed his cheek right to the beloved torso. "You are also a very good pillow. My own dakimakura."

"Really, now you're working me like you want... Or rather working me like some fluffy pillow...", Victor whispered significantly, slowly stroking his fingers down the snowman sweater, but suddenly he stopped and asked a bit louder. "But should I be a pillow with cotton or with feathers?”

Katsuki blinked and reflexively cocked his head. Cotton? What cotton?

"Oh, well. Never mind," Victor agreed meekly, seeing Yuuri's ambiguous face. "In that case, what else can your dakimanicure do for you?”

“First of all, polish your Japanese. And finish what you started," said Yuuri, lifting his head so he can put his chin on Victor's sternum. "School, children, visit, such a situation."

“Right, yes, true. Visit in school. Okay, so where have we...? Aha! So it all began with the fact that people from our Club, as part of charity help and small advertising for the whole ice rink, have been asked to come and dress up as fairytale characters. Only improvisation, without any specific plot. Clothes were prepared for us in school and we just had to come, change and make a little, crazy show.”

"Well, they definitely didn't have to persuade you too long that you should do something crazy," Yuuri admitted with a smile. "Who went with you? Everyone?"

“No, not everyone." Victor raised his hand and began to count on fingers. "Mila and Yurio were still too young, and besides they went to school at that time, so they couldn't come, but in return I brought Makkachin so he could pretend to be a hairy reindeer. Yakov really didn't want to take part in that play, but teachers somehow made him and he finally dressed up as a wolf. And Georgi took the main role and became Grandfather Frost."

“Wow. Nothing happened to anyone? Especially to Mr. Feltsman?” Yuuri was worried, but Victor just laughed and shook his head.

“As you probably noticed, I still have all limbs in right places, but I think Yakov could amputated some of his patience then. Kids over and over kept asking him why Mr. Wolf didn't have any fur on the top of his head. Then Yakov eventually grunted that he shed his hair because he is on a strict diet and it is forbidden for him to eat rabbits. But in the spring..." Victor hung his voice and winked to Yuuri, which he understood in one second. 'Spring' in this case meant 'the end of the season' and possible turns in teams, when 'the weakest bunnies', which hadn't worked well on World Championship, went under the coach's knife. "However, Georgi acted a little out of character... Or rather right in character. It was enough when he pulled on his head a furry cap and put on a beard, and normally he couldn't be recognized. He laughed loudly and played with the kids, dancing with them in a circle or planting them on his laps. It was strange even for those times.”

"Well, if you think about it, then Georgi really easily plays fairy-tale characters. You know, witches, princesses, this kind of fantasy stuff," Yuuri noticed, at the same time wanting to visualize jovially laughing Popovich, but at the mention of his ominous makeup in combination with the white beard Yuuri quickly gave up. "Okay, you almost mentioned all of them. Almost. And how about you?"

"Exactly. And about me... " Victor glanced at Yuuri, his lips tightened and he put a finger on them, making a face of someone who was about to reveal some super-secret-secret. Before he said anything more, however, he gently moved Yuuri aside, stood up and walked toward the bookcase. "There is one more detail worth remembering. Because, you know... This whole situation had happened some time ago. Exactly seven years ago.”

"Wait a minute. So in that time you were twenty-one... And it was after the Olympics in..." Yuuri barely began to calculate it in his mind, but he already lifted himself up on his elbows and turned to Victor, raising his eyebrows because of astonishment. "Victor! You had long hair!"

"I had. Still," Victor nodded calmly, and after a while he returned to blanket with an album full of clippings from old newspapers and private photos. "And that was the main reason why I became Snow Maiden."

"Who is this?" Yuuri didn't fully understand. He wasn't familiar with Russian culture, especially with local folklore, but something was buzzing in the back of his head. Victor quickly came with help.

"Snow Maiden. Grandfather Frost's granddaughter," he explained, sitting down on his knees next to Yuuri. "And before you start asking again: yes, granddaughter. Girl. See for yourself.

Pointed page with the photo glued to it spoke for itself. And indeed, if Yuuri somehow wouldn't know Victor and the fact that he had such an episode in his life, he could boldly confuse this person with a young, tall, beautiful lady. Even the name "Snow Maiden" suited him perfectly, because his elusive beauty really resembled something like snowflake. A blue coat trimmed with white fur along with a similarly fluffy cap and muffle perfectly concealed Victor's muscular figure, highlighting the beauty of silvery braided hair, shining eyes and innocent smile. Yuuri even felt some delicate dissonance when he looked up and encountered the same look, but belonging to the handsome man. Eyes and mouth, however, revealed that there was no mistake and he was dealing with the same person.

"In those days, I dressed a little ambiguously, and the deck was even better than some teachers, so it was pretty easy to mistake me for a woman. Victor summed up Yuuri's thoughts. - Well, and that women's skating and pairs are still much more popular disciplines than men's, that's why it was expected that Yakov also brought some new, talented student. Only I was not really a student, but a surprise bauble,” he joked.

“You weren’t angry?” Yuuri again turned his attention to the photo, where a young Victor posed among a group of small, maybe ten-year-old girls.

“Not at all. I didn't mind playing Snow Maiden, if that's what you're asking. All in all it was really funny that I had been considered a girl so I took the opportunity and just got into character. Yakov couldn't help it, otherwise it would come to light that he had a weirdo under protection." Victor smiled under his breath, then pulled his knees up to his chin and put his arms around them. “But then things started to go a little worse.”

"What do you mean? Did someone cause you trouble because of that?” Yuuri got worried.

“No, no, it was nothing like that, Yuuri. None of these things. The real problem laid somewhere else.…” Victor said laconically, then added with some strange nostalgia “...in me.”

That's what something Yuuri didn't expect. He closed the album and set it aside, focusing on Victor, who was staring at the light-lit couch and wandering his mind somewhere far, far away. He probably continued to circle around the intersection, letting snow fall on his long, loosely swaying hair.

“You'll probably think it's terribly shallow, but yes, I have a craving for media attention. Or rather the craving for audience,” Victor finally began. After a long moment he straightened his legs, spread arms and whistled softly, calling Makkachin to himself. The lying poodle stood up, then moved to owner's knees, letting him put his hands on the shaggy neck. “Of course it was nice when I heard from little girls that I was lovely, pretty and so on, and they would like to have dolls like me, but then the same children ran to Georgi and with shining eyes they told him about their dreams or Christmas presents. It's happening to the others too. Makkachin always steals the show, I know that not from yesterday, but even Yakov was given more attention because his reactions were so funny. And I? I was just cute. Nothing interesting in the long run.”

For a moment, Russian looked somewhat dejected, as if he remembered all the past loneliness he had to deal with. It even seemed that there was something more behind the whole story, something personal. Because who he was? What 21-year-old Victor could think about his future after such comments, before he became a living legend? Was he afraid that he wouldn't be charming or touching and he would wear a patch of superficial beauty for the rest of his life? Did he believe in his spectacular success? Or maybe he thought that his top form had already passed and the only thing that was drawing before him was the specter of a skating retirement? A slight affection grabbed Yuuri's throat. And yet he didn't give up. After a year he underwent a major metamorphosis, he won the national championship and so stubbornly pursued the goal that he win his first gold medal at the World Championships, then remained at the top for many years.

He was simply amazing.

Yuuri came closer to Victor, grabbed him from behind and shyly wrapped his arms around his waist, silently relaying his support. He didn't like mercy himself, but on the other hand he couldn't imagine that he would ignore the need of his fiancé and not show that he was with him. That's why Yuuri chose a gesture instead of words.

"Victor..." he whispered with warm voice. So Victor looked over his shoulder and gave Yuuri a restorative smile. All right, it was not that bad. Actually, since he was smiling so widely, maybe he really…

"But it's nothing. A year later I cut my hair and I immediately got the Grandfather Frost role," Victor confessed cheerfully. "It was worth it."

It was worth it? No. No, never. It's impossible. And idiotic. But before Yuuri could convince himself that it wasn't true for his own mental comfort, Nikiforov reached for the album again and turned it a few pages further, showing another photo. This time Victor-for-sure-guy-because-he-would-recognize-his-silver-bangs-everywhere wore a shaggy beard and a red costume reminiscent something like traditional costume of Santa Claus. There was no mistake. He really did it.

"Seriously, Victor? Seriously?" Yuuri let fiancé out of his embrace and moved so that he could glare at him. "I thought that behind your hair's change there was a whole dramatic story. That it was a presentation of your determination, that you devoted all your time and body to skating, I even argued on forums that it was definitely a metaphor for your psychological transformation! But now you're saying you did it because you want a role in the children's show?”

"That wasn't the reason. I mean, not the main," Victor tried to explain, but he couldn't lie. He couldn't even stand Yuuri's look for more than five seconds. But Victor, however, also knew it and that's why he quickly changed the subject. "Wait, did you argue?"

"Victor! Not now! Now we're talking about the fact that all our relationship is based on a lie!" Yuuri pointed out, however, Victor also didn't give up.

"Did you argue?" he repeated, then raised his hand and placed it on beloved cheeks, stopping Yuuri from turning his head. "You stood up for me? Even when I hadn't won anything yet?"

"M-maybe a little," Yuuri stuttered, and the whole aggression began to fly through his ears. "How could I admire you only for winning…"

"Yuuri," Victor whispered. "You are-"

But instead of any romantic phrase, Victor simply raised his hands and pulled Yuuri to himself, kissing him in exposed fragment of sweater neckline. Yuuri at first gasped through his nose, somewhat pleased with whole cuddling, and then began to moan quietly, because it didn't end on one kiss. On two also not. Five also. After tenth kiss, Yuuri began losing his chance to win in any discussion... But in that moment Makkachin joined in to the whole sound composition, because he squeaked, trapped in the ticks of hugging bodies. Yuuri immediately came to his senses, disentangled himself from the tight grip and began to stroke the dog on his head, apologizing for rough handling with poodle.

"Poor Makkachin. We won't even give him sleep," Yuuri sighed, scratching at his ears. "He have only troubles with us..."

"Troubles? You sure?" Victor joined the grazing poodle, which he breathed through his nose with much more enthusiasm than a moment ago. "Rather a lot of luck. Right, Makkachin?"

The dog wagged lazily at the sound of his name... or maybe wagged because he actually agreed with his man. Only his shaggy head knew that.

Very shaggy and no less full of Christmas memories than human.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> zuch malchik - good boy
> 
> Welcome to the second part of Victuuri's holidays! I tried so hard to make it in time and to make it good, but I'm always afraid that I made a lot of mistakes, errors and so on... I'm really, really, really sorry! ;___; But even if it isn't good, I'm quite happy that I can polish my English (and I already see difference). Forgive me, next tme I'll be stronger! ;u;
> 
> And here comes a little explanation:
> 
> Regarding the reason for the change of the Victor’s haircut - so far I have developed that before the free program Victor cut his hair to shock judges (and thanks to that he won). I hope that one day I will have an opportunity to develop this story, because it is really interesting. But do you know why this is a fairly probable version of events? Misha Ge is doing something like this in this season, because he is breeding stubble for short programs and shaved it for free programs. As you can see, quickly hair metamorphoses among skaters are not so unusual.
> 
> The idea for the history of Victor-Snow Maiden and Victor-Grandfather Frost came from the official acrylic stand. I really like to play with official arts and put some references in univese.
> 
> And as you may expect, in the last part we're going to have a story told through eyes and nose of the third participant of this whole blanket party. Because when, if not during Christmas, animals gain their own voice?
> 
> In that case, see you on December 25th!
> 
> :*


End file.
